<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>all we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign (all we do is drive) by 98print</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389465">all we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign (all we do is drive)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/98print/pseuds/98print'>98print</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>SEONGJOONG ?! [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up &amp; Making Up, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relationship Study</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:00:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/98print/pseuds/98print</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>‘i want to break up,’ the words tumble out of hongjoong’s mouth, hitting the floor with an almost-audible smack. </p>
  <p>seonghwa watches as they hit the empty beer cans on the floor, the clanging inside his head ceaseless, going on forever. he squeezes his eyes shut- he’s been doing that a lot lately. it could make the world stop, if only for a second.<br/></p>
</blockquote>hongjoong thinks they should break up. seonghwa thinks they should go on a drive instead.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>SEONGJOONG ?! [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>172</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign (all we do is drive)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>it's been 84 years ,, but i am back</p><p>sometimes going on a drive with someone you love can be life-changing, i really poured myself into this work and i hope you guys can read in between the lines to find some stuff i wanted to convey!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘i want to break up,’ the words tumble out of hongjoong’s mouth, hitting the floor with an almost-audible smack. </p><p>seonghwa watches as they hit the empty beer cans on the floor, the clanging inside his head ceaseless, going on forever. he squeezes his eyes shut- he’s been doing that a lot lately. it could make the world stop, if only for a second. </p><p>hongjoong is still watching him across the room, eyes bright in the low light. he’s not crying, though- or is he? hongjoong’s hardly the type to cry over things like this, preferring to mull decisions over and over in his head until he reaches his own verdict instead. </p><p>seonghwa heaves a sigh. ‘let’s go on a drive.’</p><p>-</p><p>hongjoong shivers once they’re out of the stuffy apartment, thrust into the cold air. ‘i’m cold,’ he murmurs. </p><p>seonghwa thinks of a time where hongjoong would deliver the same sentence with three times less actual sentiment and twice the mirth, snuggling up to seonghwa in a bid for seonghwa to give him his scarf. <i>smells like you</i>, he’d proclaim happily, sliding his small hand into seonghwa’s. </p><p>he shoves his hands into his pockets. ‘it’ll be warmer in the car,’ he tells hongjoong.</p><p>-</p><p>they bundle into the car, the deafening silence cut off violently by the roar of the engine coming to life. </p><p>splendid, seonghwa thinks. two boys on a three a.m. drive, going nowhere. then, he wonders when he’d started to think about them as <i>two boys</i> instead of <i>a couple.</i> </p><p>he sneaks a glance at hongjoong- hongjoong’s face is turned away from him and towards the window, but even at this angle seonghwa can see the way his eyelashes rest delicately on his cheekbones, the curve of his nose and the ears sticking out from under his beanie, making him look more like a fairy than ever. </p><p>seonghwa had thought, when they first met, that he would never be able to match up to hongjoong’s cutting wit and boundless creativity. he’d been so shining, the school council president, founding the unity club and rejuvenating the music club in their college; that seonghwa was almost convinced that they’d never be compatible as a pair. </p><p>but never had he seemed so out of reach, not until now. </p><p><i>what went wrong</i>, seonghwa wonders, as he takes a turn out of the city and onto the freeway. <i>what went wrong?</i></p><p>-</p><p>interlude: </p><p>hongjoong had always preferred noise over quiet. as a producer, it’s practically a given, having to listen to different samples, create different beats. </p><p>‘hongjoong-ah,’ hongjoong looks down to see seonghwa frowning, eyes closed. his lips are nudged open against the pillow, and he looks small and soft, fist curling into the hem of hongjoong’s shirt. ‘too loud.’ </p><p>‘sorry, love,’ hongjoong apologizes, sliding off his headphones and closing his laptop. seonghwa hums in approval as hongjoong snuggles down next to him, finding seonghwa’s hand to hold under the covers. ‘let’s sleep, now.’</p><p>-</p><p>hongjoong looks at seonghwa’s side profile and prays. </p><p>he’d never been particularly religious, not even with his mother dragging him to church as a child. he’d always thought it was a waste of time, having to beg for forgiveness to a person he didn’t even know existed or not when he could be reading or sketching. </p><p>as he grew up, he realized that religion, for his mother and many other individuals alike; was less of a penance and more of a reliance. it was good to have someone to rely on, a higher power you could always turn to even when the rest of the world abandons you. </p><p>and for hongjoong, that person had been seonghwa. it had started even before they’d started dating, the way seonghwa was always there to listen and think, give hongjoong his feedback and support. it had continued well into their relationship, and in turn seonghwa was able to remind hongjoong when he was being unnecessarily anxious or angry, tempering him into being a better person.</p><p>seonghwa’s always brought the best out of hongjoong, and yet here hongjoong is, throwing him away just because he didn’t know what else to do. </p><p>seonghwa’s driving one-handed, his left hand resting on the joystick. hongjoong itches to reach over and cover it with his own, to feel seonghwa’s skin against his, a reminder that he’s still there. but how could he possibly reach across the invisible wall of unsaid words and uncertainties that’s been building in between them all these months?</p><p>so hongjoong keeps his hands interlocked and prays, watching the street light flicker across seonghwa’s face. <i>please</i>, he thinks. <i>don’t take him away from me.</i> </p><p>-</p><p>it had all started when hongjoong was scammed by that entertainment company. </p><p>they should’ve known, in retrospect, should’ve been wary about the fact that such a big, well-established company would be willing to pay such a high price for hongjoong’s sample. things like these are always too good to be true, seonghwa realizes, when the contact disappeared and hongjoong didn’t receive his money, no matter how many calls he made and how many times he’d complained. </p><p>and then the days started to blur together, a mess of exhaustion, weights tied to seonghwa’s limbs as he drowned. <i>no, you don’t need to send money</i>, he’d grit to his mother, over the phone. <i>no, we’re doing fine, you don’t have to come visit.</i>he swallows the lies. it chokes him, burning a line all the way from the back of his mouth to his stomach.</p><p>-</p><p>interlude:</p><p>‘i’m home.’ </p><p>‘welcome back.’ a smaller body curls into his back as seonghwa takes his shoes off, turning in the circle of hongjoong’s arms to kiss him on the forehead. ‘place felt empty without you.’</p><p>‘you’ll have to get used to it,’ seonghwa tells his lover fondly, brushing dyed bangs out of his face. ‘it’s just my first day- don’t give me that face,’ he breaks off, laughing when hongjoong makes a face. ‘god, you’re so annoying.’</p><p>‘you love me anyway.’ hongjoong says petulantly, but he lets seonghwa cup his face in big hands, kiss the pout off his lips. </p><p>-</p><p>it had all started when hongjoong’s father found out about them. </p><p>hongjoong would take the calls from his mother, long half-hour calls where he rarely spoke, just waited for his mother to stop crying. <i>he’s old and out of his mind, son,</i> seonghwa would hear her, distraught, over the line. <i>come visit, even once, tell him you’re over this- this phase, now.</i> </p><p>‘that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, mother,’ hongjoong would tell her, and seonghwa would busy himself with the dishes, or the cleaning, or whatever chore he was supposed to be working on. ‘i won’t say that about him, ever.’</p><p>and hongjoong would be extra clingy, after those calls, grabbing for seonghwa’s hand even if they’re in public, kiss him for the world to see. when did he stop doing that, and how had seonghwa not noticed, at all?</p><p>-</p><p>it starts to rain, pinging against the roof of the car and running rivulets down the windows. </p><p>hongjoong watches the water trail down the side of the car, mindless. what he would give to be one of those water droplets among millions, he thinks. numb, your only job being to help the trees and flowers the means flourish. free from annoyingly human problems like finances, communication, and emotions. </p><p>seonghwa turns the windshield wipers on, and because hongjoong’s an artist, he thinks about them. they’ve always been like this, haven’t they? fighting all the troubles they encountered in life together, trying to battle away the world and make a space for themselves, just enough for the two of them to breathe. but the rain just keeps coming, and they can do nothing but watch themselves, helpless, boats beating on against the ruthless current.</p><p>seonghwa’s gaze is focused, eyes steady on the road. the street lights cast yellow over his face, the shadows making his features even more angular, so beautiful and burning like something hongjoong could never touch. seonghwa has always been so gentle, soft and effortlessly graceful, clean pencil sketches to hongjoong’s messy acrylic. </p><p>and then it hits hongjoong- he could fall in love with seonghwa again like this, because no one else would suggest they go on a drive to- to the beach; hongjoong realizes as they exit the freeway, where they'd had their first kiss. seonghwa is all the things hongjoong needs and cherishes and loves, and the fact that he’s sitting here with hongjoong, even after hongjoong’s thrown a breakup proposition at him; makes hongjoong’s heart ache blue and purple.</p><p>seonghwa pulls over to the side of the road. ‘rain’s too heavy,’ he murmurs in response to hongjoong’s questioning look. ‘better wait for it to stop, before we keep going.’</p><p>the wind shrieks outside the window, the rain relentless. hongjoong swallows, his blood pounding in his ears. he thinks about all the medical journals he’d read before he’d dropped out, people describing what it’s like to have taken surgery under ether. it probably hadn’t been too different from how he’d been watching all of this unfold, detached and panicky; floating away from his body. because he knows that its now or never, but what was he supposed to say, especially after so long- </p><p>‘don’t go,’ seonghwa’s voice is shaky, but it cuts through the noise in hongjoong’s head all the same. ‘i don’t want to break up.’</p><p>a breath hongjoong doesn’t know he’s been holding in stutters out of his chest. seonghwa’s yanked him back down, the feeling of gravity hooking itself into his skin again, grounding.<br/>
‘me too,’ he keeps his eyes downcast. before seonghwa can respond, he continues. ‘sorry i said that, i- i wasn’t thinking.’</p><p>seonghwa smiles wanly, lifting his eyes to meet hongjoong’s. ‘i think you think too much,’ he teases, but sobers up quickly. ‘i mean, i understand why you were feeling like that. i,’ he pauses. ‘i felt a bit like that too, so.’ </p><p>and there’s an irrevocable swelling in hongjoong’s chest, something ballooning bigger and bigger until it’s impossible to ignore. they’ve just been so stupid, hongjoong thinks, closing themselves off and trying to fix things one-sided when it’s the two of them in a relationship. it’s the two of them, has always been the two of them, ever since that morning when hongjoong had ran headlong into seonghwa and spilled his coffee all over him. </p><p>‘we’re so stupid,’ hongjoong chokes, making seonghwa laugh. god, he’s nearly forgotten how much he loves that sound- he wants to bottle it up and listen to it all the time; when he wakes up, before he falls asleep. ‘we could’ve talked to each other, you know.’</p><p>‘i wasn’t sure if talking about it would make you feel better,’ seonghwa stares out of the window, picking at a loose thread on his hoodie. ‘but it made me feel like shit, that we were in the same space but not living together.’</p><p>hongjoong swallows the instinctive <i>wow that was poetic enough to be a lyric</i> joke, the one he uses to shield vulnerability when things get too much. ‘yeah,’ he says, instead. his throat is dry. ‘i missed you.’ </p><p>‘i missed you too,’ seonghwa confesses quietly, watching hongjoong places a hand on his, threading their fingers together. ‘missed your smile,’ seonghwa goes on, brushing his thumb against hongjoong’s. ‘missed listening to you bitch about your colleagues. missed drunk dancing with you in the apartment.’</p><p>hongjoong smiles, slight, but a smile nonetheless. ‘take me to the beach, seonghwa.’</p><p>-</p><p>the rain’s stopped when they pull up at the beach, but the sand is still wet under their toes when they approach the icy water, barefoot. </p><p>hongjoong shivers in his thin sweater. ‘i’m cold,’ he says.</p><p>this time, seonghwa takes his hand and drags him into his chest. ‘it’s warmer here,’ he says, guiding hongjoong into a hug. </p><p>and maybe it’s because seonghwa’s arms are tight around his back, or because hongjoong’s nose is buried in seonghwa’s shoulder and he hasn’t been so close to him in so long it feels like he’s tearing apart from the inside. </p><p>‘seonghwa,’ he calls, and then, ‘i love you.’ </p><p>a pause. then hands go back to smoothing down hongjoong’s hair, mussed by the wind. ‘i love you too, hongjoong-ah.’ </p><p>hongjoong pushes his face into seonghwa’s embrace, and hopes that seonghwa doesn’t notice the shoulder of his hoodie turning wet. </p><p><i>good luck,</i> the stars seem to whisper. <i>good luck.</i></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b> kudos are much appreciated!! and do leave a comment so writers know they're not posting into the void.</b>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>